


scent memories

by eutuxia



Category: DC's Legends of Tomorrow (TV), The Flash (TV 2014)
Genre: Alpha Mick Rory, Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Angst, Established Relationship, M/M, Masturbation, Mating Cycles/In Heat, Omega Leonard Snart, Pining, Post-Episode: s01e07 Marooned, Scenting, Smut
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-05-04
Updated: 2020-05-04
Packaged: 2021-03-01 22:20:49
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,445
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23960725
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/eutuxia/pseuds/eutuxia
Summary: Heats don't stop coming when you abandon your alpha in another time. Making up might be easier if they weren't stuck on board a timeship.Or, being a legend won't stop being shitty, and Leonard regrets getting on the damn ship in the first place.
Relationships: Mick Rory/Leonard Snart
Comments: 5
Kudos: 62





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This fic significantly extends the timeline of season 1. On the show, it seems like only a few days actually elapsed between when Leonard marooned Mick and when Mick was revealed as Chronos, and Mick and Leonard made up not long after that.
> 
> But in this fic, both those things take a bit longer, and nothing is quite as simple.

As Sara drew closer to the kitchen, she could hear the fragrant scent of cooking food and the clatter of pots and pans being banged around. She wondered who was cooking—most of the team seemed content to let Gideon fabricate most of their food, and it wasn't yet time for one of the weekly team dinners that Ray kept trying (and failing) to wrangle them into.

She came into the kitchen and found Leonard bent over the stove, still dressed in sleep clothes, looking flustered and disheveled, and that was when she realized that the scent that had wafted down the hallway wasn't just the smell of whatever Leonard was trying to cook. The kitchen absolutely reekedwith the scent of an omega in heat, and now that she was closer, she could see that Leonard's hands were shaking as he tried to move things around the counter. She didn't like the look of the large chef's knife in his shaking hands.

"Leonard? What are you doing?" She was only a few feet away from him now, careful not to crowd him. Leonard was a bit particular about personal space at the best of times, but right now, with him in heat, Sara knew her presence would likely set him on edge even more than usual. "Gideon can fabricate anything you want, you should be in bed," she chided gently.

Leonard barely spared her a glance, but when he did, she could see how absolutely wrecked he looked. Exhaustion had carved dark circles into his pale face, and a heavy sheen of sweat coated every inch of his bare skin. Up close, she could see how he was trembling so badly he looked like he would vibrate out of his skin.

"Come on, Leonard, give me the knife before you hurt yourself."

He shook his head emphatically and gripped the handle tighter in his hand, his knuckles turning white around the silver handle. "No," he gritted out and turned back to his chopping. The knife kept slipping in his hand as he tried to slice the bell pepper in front of him into thin pieces. 

Sara sighed, stepping into his space and removing the knife from his hand, careful not to spook him and end up with the knife slicing her own hand. He looked resigned as she took the knife from him, but he didn't fight her on it.

"Leonard, you're in full heat right now, you shouldn't be cooking," she scolded. "What were you even trying to make?"

Leonard sighed, looking dejected as he scanned the mess he had made of the kitchen. "Mick always—" He broke off then, looking like he'd swallowed a lemon. "I just wanted—" Barely audible, she could hear him mumble that he just missed his mate, and Sara could feel her heart sinking in her chest. Just a couple short weeks ago, the team had practically forced Leonard's hand into "taking care" of his partner, knowing full well that meant killing him. And that had reflected badly enough on them as it was. But fuck, she hadn't realized that Mick had been Leonard's mate.

They had made Leonard kill his mate.

And now Leonard was in heat, without his mate, on an unfamiliar ship, in an unfamiliar time, surrounded by unfamiliar people, just trying to reenact the same kinds of comforts his mate had apparently provided him in life. 

Sara tried to keep her face from showing what was going through her head as she steered Leonard towards a seat at the kitchen table with a gentle hand on his shoulder. "Why don't you sit down and tell me how to cook it?" She said, sympathetic to what must be the worst chapter of his life.

Leonard's brow furrowed as he mulled her offer over before he finally nodded jerkily and sank down into the chair.

"So, do you have the recipe written down somewhere?" She said gently, looking around the kitchen to see if there was somewhere that Leonard might have left it.

He shook his head, looking tired. "No, he never wrote it down. But I saw him make it enough times, I can tell you what to do."

"Okay, that works." She smiled at him and settled in front of the workspace. She had never been a great cook, but with a little luck, she wouldn't mess this up too badly. Leonard's voice was quiet and halting as he directed her movements, and she had to prompt him for directions a few times as he got lost in his head or the fever of his heat and became too distracted to continue.

It wasn't a difficult recipe, she noted, but it was rich and hearty, the kind of recipe intended to feed a mated pair for the entirety of a rough heat. The knowledge that Rory had doted on Leonard like this when he had been alive was completely at odds with the idea she had formed of him as a rough and brutal man in the brief time she had known him. She supposed she shouldn't be surprised. She was rough and brutal too.

Before long, Sara finished cooking, and she stored the bulk of the food away in several temperature-controlled boxes so Leonard could have it later. She ladled a generous serving into a bowl and placed it in front of Leonard, respectfully not commenting on the tears that prickled at Leonard's eyes as he thanked her in a low voice and took his first bite with a trembling hand. Leonard ate quietly while Sara cleaned up the kitchen workspace, restoring everything to the pristine condition that Rip insisted on.

When Leonard finished eating, he rose from his seat on unsteady legs and managed to put his dishes in the dishwasher on his own, but Sara could see what a mess he was and looked at him with concern. He leaned against the kitchen counter and shut his eyes, clearly trying to regain some control over his body before making the journey back to his room. 

"Are you okay to get back to your room?" She asked gently.

He nodded shakily and pushed away from the counter, but the way he stumbled immediately after that belied his words, and she caught him under the elbow. "Let me get you back to your room." Her voice brooked no argument. "I'll bring the food by a little later so you can have it with you, okay?"

Leonard knew better than to argue with an assassin in his current condition and just gasped his assent weakly as Sara guided him down the hallway to the part of the ship dedicated to sleeping quarters. His core felt melted and overheated, and his legs were shaky and weak as he walked down the hallway. He wasn't sure he would have been able to stay upright without Sara supporting him, and he moaned in relief when they got to his door, and he was able to unlatch it with a press of his sweaty, trembling hand to the security interface.

Sara helped him to the bed and eased him down into a sitting position on it. "I'm going back to the kitchen to get everything for you, ok?" He nodded mutely, not meeting her eyes, and she looked at him with consideration. 

"Do you have any supplies, Leonard?" She realized now that Leonard might not have brought any heat supplies aboard the Waverider between having his mate with him and not knowing how long the journey would last. Hell, they had all thought this mission would be easier and shorter than it had turned out to be.

He winced at the implication but shook his head.

"I'll see what Gideon can do about that. Wait here," she commanded. Not that she expected him to leave in his condition, but with the way he had insisted on trying to cook in the middle of his heat, she couldn't be sure.

Sara padded down the hallway quietly, lost in thought, and returned to the kitchen. She cursed herself and the team for failing to notice how Leonard had been falling apart so quietly without Mick beside him. She prided herself on being observant, but it honestly hadn't occurred to her that Mick and Len had been anything other than partners in crime.

Would it have changed things if the team had known? Would they have still forced Leonard's hand like that and forced him to either kill Mick or watch him be killed?

She didn't have an answer to that. 

She packed the boxes of food into a duffel and slung it over her shoulder. Tupperware had apparently come a long way in the past hundred and fifty years, and the temperature control settings on them should allow them to stay safe for the duration of Leonard's heat. She wondered if maybe that was what the innovators had had in mind when they had created the strange cubes.

She looked around the kitchen for a moment before filling up a pitcher of water and grabbing that too, and then she turned her attention to Gideon. "Gideon, is there anything you can give him for his heat?"

"There are heat supply kits available in the med bay," Gideon said cheerfully.

Sara chuckled with a bit of relief. She had been worried that the Time Masters' prohibitions on relationships may have extended to general prudishness as well and that she might have needed to use the fabricator room to ask Gideon to make a dildo for her teammate. She liked Leonard, but that was a little much, even for her.

Gideon directed her to the heat kits in the med bay, and she grabbed one for Leonard, making note of their location. After all, Leonard wasn't the only omega aboard the Waverider, and the situation could easily repeat itself with her other teammates.

She stalked back to Leonard's room and knocked quietly on the door. "Leonard," she called. "Are you decent?" She said, wanting to give him a moment to cover himself, in case he wasn't, before opening the door.

The door unlocked from the inside and swung forward, courtesy of Gideon. Leonard was still sitting on the bed where she had left him, blessedly clothed, looking pale and exhausted but too defeated to do anything but sit where she had left him. She set down the duffle and the pitcher of water on the bedside table, and then set the little heat kit next to him on the bed, smiling at him gently.

"Gideon gave me that for you. It should help you feel better, okay?" 

Leonard just inclined his head at her, thanking her in a rough and barely audible voice. The misery on his face made it clear he didn't think anything could make him feel better right now.

She left the room as quietly as possible and shut the door behind her. She hoped he would feel better, but she wasn't banking on it. Not after all of this.

Not after they had made him kill his mate.


	2. Chapter 2

Once Sara had left, Leonard buried his face in his hands with a long groan. _Fuck, Mick_. When he had asked Mick to join him on this journey, he had never expected things to fall apart so totally.

He felt sick as he thought about how he had left Mick behind in the middle of nowhere and notime. He would come back to the moment he left him, he swore it, but he knew Mick would think of it as a betrayal, not as an attempt to save his life.

He missed Mick more than he could stand, and for the past few weeks, Len had felt a heavy weight deep in his stomach from the knowledge of what he had done to him. To his partner, his mate. 

It was never supposed to be like this. It was supposed to be the two of them against the rest of the world, not Leonard knocking Mick out and leaving him stranded with no way home.

He took a few deep, steadying breaths in an attempt to settle his stomach. It would do him no good to throw up what he had just eaten when he was about to enter the long stretch of his heat. He tried to remind himself that soon, this godforsaken quest would be over and he could go back for Mick like he'd planned.

He missed him so much.

The box didn't have any markings to show what was inside, but when he opened it, he found a futuristic knotting dildo, a generously sized bottle of lube, a box of condoms, and a spray bottle of synthetic alpha pheromones. He didn't think he would need the lube without how worked up he was already, but he appreciated it all the same. Depending on how long his heat dragged out, it might even be necessary.

When he read the label on the bottle of alpha pheromones, Leonard dropped it as if burned. He didn't want some paltry imitation of Mick's scent. It would only serve as a reminder of why Mick wasn't there.

He hadn't gone through a heat without Mick since after that awful fire had separated them years ago, and he had hoped that he would never have to again. With the dangerous lives they both led, he had known there was a risk that something would separate them again, but he hadn't thought it would be Leonard's own hand that would drive them apart.

Would Mick forgive him for this betrayal? He knew Mick would think he had chosen the team over him. The weight in Leonard's stomach grew even heavier.

He shut his eyes against the dark thoughts plaguing his mind and took a shuddering breath before setting the heat supplies next to him on the bed and finally tugging his clothes off. In his haste, he got a little tangled up in his long-sleeved shirt and spent a few frustrating minutes trying to extricate himself from the mess of fabric. He moaned in relief when he was free of the shirt and pulled his sleep pants and boxer briefs off in seconds.

During an ordinary heat, he would have been fully undressed hours ago, mewling underneath Mick, but he had been so agitated he had put it off for as long as he could. In his painful state of arousal, undressing was a relief.

Leonard lay back on the bed, reaching for the dildo that was apparently standard issue on Time Master ships, and brought one of his legs up to give himself access to his entrance. He eased one hand in between his legs to test his wetness. Just as he had expected, he was sopping wet from being in unfulfilled heat for so long, and he groaned as his hand finally touched his sensitive entrance. 

He let his fingers sink inside, finding his muscles loose and swollen with arousal. He couldn't help but thrust his fingers in and out a few times, gasping and rolling his hips involuntarily at the stimulation as his fingers grazed his prostate. It took an incredible amount of determination to remove his fingers from his hot core and slide the thick dildo inside himself instead.

He moaned as the dildo penetrated him and bit his lip to try to silence himself, wary of the amount of sound that might transfer to other rooms through the thin walls of the Waverider. He shut his eyes against the stimulation, trying to focus on the pleasure rather than how different the cool silicone felt in comparison to Mick sliding inside of him and taking care of him.

Panting, Leonard squirmed on the bed, rolling his hips up against the dildo as he drove it inside himself. It felt great moving inside of him, but it was also a reminder of just what he was missing, of how it wasn't Mick who was taking care of him. He wanted this heat to be over as quickly as possible, but he knew he was in for another three days of this torture.

He hoped they took care of Savage soon. He hoped Mick forgave him. Because he wasn't sure he could deal with heats like this indefinitely, knowing it was his own fault that Mick wasn't there to take care of him.

It wasn't enough, though, and Leonard moaned in frustration as he tried to get himself off. Fuck, it hurt. He had put this off for hours, trying to ignore his heat when he had first woken up. 

Last night, he had been so overheated that he had kicked all the blankets off the bed, and his boxer briefs had soaked through with sweat and slick. A shower had helped him cool down and feel decidedly less disgusting, and he had changed into fresh pajamas before climbing back into bed to try to sleep off as much of his heat as he possibly could.

But he hadn't been able to sleep, so he had ventured out to try to recreate a dish Mick had always made for him during his heats. He could have had Gideon make him anything, but he had wanted the normalcy that would come from having that small creature comfort even when Mick wasn't there.

And then he had humiliated himself in front of one of his teammates when she had caught him like that, distressed and disheveled and smelling strongly of an omega in heat.

But it wasn't worth dwelling on that right now, not with the pain of his unfulfilled heat only ratcheting up more violently as he worked the dildo inside himself and still couldn't come. Leonard rolled over onto his stomach, hoping that a new position could bring him closer to the orgasm he needed to bring his heat back under control for a while. He ended up on his knees, with his ass up in the air and his face in the pillow, while he thrust the dildo as deep inside himself as he could.

It still wasn't enough, even with one hand stroking his hard cock as he used the other to drive the dildo inside himself. He groaned in frustration before realizing how close he was to Mick's pillow, and he reached out to grab it, bringing it up to his face and breathing deeply. Even now, he could catch traces of Mick's heady alpha scent lingering on the fabric, and he moaned in appreciation. The arousal in his stomach blossomed more deeply, and Len buried his face in Mick's pillow instead of his own as he continued to work the dildo inside himself, trying to mimic the way Mick would thrust inside him when he needed it most.

It felt so much better with Mick's scent so close, and although it was a paltry substitute for the real thing, Leonard could tell this was going to work. He moaned loudly as he neared his peak and rolled his hips back against the dildo with abandon, trying to imagine that Mick's warmth was blanketing him from behind, that Mick was rasping vulgar words in his ear about how good he felt around him, that Mick was the one easing the flames in his belly.

With thoughts of Mick at the forefront of his mind, Len was finally able to climax, moaning loudly into Mick's pillow and biting down on the fabric as his muscles convulsed around the dildo. He rode out his peak squirming around it, feeling the silicone continue to fill him up and wishing it were Mick knotting him instead. His heat-clumsy fingers grappled for the little button at the base of the dildo that would expand into a semblance of a knot, desperate for it to leave him sated for a short time, and he gasped as the additional stimulation triggered a second orgasm so soon after his first. It almost hurt, coming back to back like that, but he was finally able to relax into the bed and pant out his satisfaction.

He knew that it wasn't Mick knotting inside him; it didn't feel anything like him, but his body didn't seem to care, and Len knew he'd finally be able to sleep now that he had finally been able to release.

He relaxed against the bed with the dildo still knotted deep inside of him and buried his face in Mick's pillow, clutching it tightly. Even two weeks after he had marooned Mick, the pillow smelled strongly of him and was enough to help soothe him through his heat.

He would get through the next three days without Mick because he had to.


End file.
